


Mr Nice Guy

by fairiel



Category: Chris Pratt - Fandom
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairiel/pseuds/fairiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader gets drunk in a bar with Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr Nice Guy

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if there are mistakes, I've edited it 3 times and I don't have the courage to read it anymore, it gives me way too many feels!

Tonight you’ve decided you’d go out on your own. It’s probably not a very good idea but all your friends have bailed on you, ditching you for a quiet night with their significant others, and since you’re the only single one of the lot, you find yourself completely alone. What the hell! You will go out anyway. 

You begin quietly with a film at the movie theatre. Nothing can happen there, you won’t meet anyone, but you had to start somewhere. Next step is hitting that bar you have heard of. Apparently they play pretty good music, so even if nothing else is of interest, at least you wouldn’t have waisted your time.

After one hour and 4 vodkas on ice, you feel really bored. They don’t have wifi and you can’t check internet, what a bummer! There’s this one guy that eyes you from the other side of the bar. He tried to buy you a drink but you deflected him as politely as you could. This is not your night after all, you should have known. Even in your best dress and platform heels, it seems you’re transparent and barely anyone is looking at you, apart from that one loser. As always.

You decide to leave when your phone rings. You check it rapidly, it’s your supposedly best friend, probably checking on you to see if you haven’t done anything too rash. You answer, a little annoyed, and while you argue with her over why she has decided to stay in and not come with you, you order another vodka on ice. Your head begins to swim and you feel a bit hot but you can’t help yourself. At least, it makes you feel happier.

You hang out and take your jacket, about to leave, when a guy in a grey t-shirt enters the bar. He looks familiar and you struggle through the vapors of alcohol to remember where you know him from as he sits right next to you, greeting you with a “Hey there! My favorite barista!” and a smile. It comes back to you in a flash. He’s a regular at the Starbucks you work at. Always comes at 4 pm, orders a latte macchiato with cinnamon. Always waits for you to be available. You’ve noticed him, of course, he’s cute, tall, perfectly cut, muscles bulging from everywhere, but you’re too shy to make a move. Besides, you never know if guys are just friendly or hitting on you if they’re a bit subtle.

“Hi” you reply. “It’s Chris, isn’t it?”

He nods and you hope he hasn’t seen you sway in your chair as you’ve turned to look at him. 

“Of all people, I never thought I’d find you there” he continues. “Do you come often? Cause I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Oh no” you reply, letting him buy you another drink. “I never go out but I heard the music was good.”

He flashes a smile at you, taking a sip from his glass.

“You like music? Dude, you have no idea how that makes me feel. I’m a big music buff.”

He keeps on talking and you learn that he plays the guitar. As if you needed that! It’s common knowledge that you have a weakness for cute guys who are also musicians. The conversation keeps going on, because music is one of your favorite subject and even though you’re quite drunk now, you passionately discourse on your favorite bands. He doesn’t seem bored at all. On the contrary, he listens with attention, holding your eyes all the time. 

Time passes and you’ve lost count of the drinks you had. As long as you stay on your chair, it’s alright, you tell yourself. He keeps talking to you as if nothing was wrong, so you must not look that drunk. He has a really nice voice, not too low but easy to listen to. He’s funny, too. He tells you jokes that make you laugh really loud. From times to times you get the feeling that everyone’s staring at you when you laugh, but the vodka has removed all your inhibitions. You place your face in your hand, feeling suddenly very tired but after a while, your elbow slips from the counter and you almost fall down from your chair.

“I think it’d be wiser if you went home” you hear Chris say as he puts his hand on your arm to help you up.

“No, I want to stay with you!” you answer, yelling throughout the bar without even realizing.

That’s it, you’ve just made a fool of yourself in front of this incredibly attractive guy. You should feel ashamed but the alcohol is clouding all your judgment and you laugh like a maniac, your hair falling on your face.

“Dude, you’ve had too much to drink” Chris says, securing his hold on you.

You sway on your feet but his grip prevents you from splaying on the floor. He catches your other shoulder as your feet wobble in your platform shoes.

“I knew I shouldn’t have worn those shoes” you say, kicking them away, hovering on your feet and finally falling right onto Chris’s large chest. You hum a tune as he tries to shake you away from your state of drunkenness but nothing will do. You’re too far gone by now to even care about the show you’re putting, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Do you have a car?” he asks you.

“Huh?”

You don’t even know what he’s talking about.

“A car?” he asks again, louder. “Do you have a car?”

You shake your head.

“Nope, sir!”

“Where do you live?” he inquires.

You mumble something incomprehensible and open your bag, all your stuff falling as you take your wallet. You hand it to him, saying:

“My ID.”

He opens the wallet and finds the ID with your address on it.

“Okay” he says, helping you gather your stuff back in your bag. “Let’s take you home.”

He picks up your shoes before getting you out of the bar in the street, signaling the first cab that passes by, but when the driver sees the state you’re in, he makes a disgusted face before saying:

“It’s gonna cost you extra. And if she pukes in the car, you’ll have to clean it.”

Chris just shrugs and shoves you in the taxi, buckling your belt. As soon as you’re inside, your head falls on his shoulder with a contented sound.

“You’re nice” you say, patting him on the thigh, not even aware of how promiscuous you are.

“Yeah” he replies, a small smile on his lips. “I know.”

He starts putting your hair back in place with a concerned look in his eyes and when he’s done, you bury your face in his neck, saying:

“Mr Nice Guy, that should be your name. I’m gonna write that on your cup from now on.”

He just smiles, gently stroking your hair and you fall asleep.

You wake up as he softly calls your name, vaguely aware of the saliva trickling from your mouth on his grey t-shirt. You look at him in a daze but he only helps you out of the cab, picking up your shoes and your bag. He holds your arm to steady you but you fall on your knees, vomiting everything you have in the gutter.

“Good luck with this one” the taxi driver shouts cheekily before leaving.

When you’re done, Chris helps you back on your feet, wiping your mouth with a kerchief as he would do with a baby. You feel a dull pain in your stomach and in your head. You moan as you find yourself unable to lift your feet from the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a touch of concern in his voice.

“Noooooooo” you wail, tears in your eyes. “I can’t move.”

“Okay, give me your keys. I’ll carry you inside.”

You hand him your keys and he picks you up, scooping you as carefully as he can. You wrap your arms around his neck, still retching.

“I live on the second floor” you manage to explain. “Third door on the right.”

He carries you all the way up, opens your door and immediately finds the bedroom where he gently drops you on the bed. Your cat comes in and curls in next to you, purring. You close your eyes as he pulls the blankets over you, drifting away again despite your spinning head and the heaves from your stomach.

 

Daylight bathes the room when you wake up with a dreadful headache. You whine in pain, trying to get up. The cat is already gone but you didn’t even notice he curled with you before. You yawn, a strange taste in your mouth. It all comes back to you now, the drinks you had, meeting Chris, making a fool of yourself, him carrying you back home.

“You stupid tart!” you exclaim loudly.

You had the one chance of your life to finally end with a decent guy and you blew it away. You’ll never be able to look him in the eyes when he comes back to the café. Ah well, you’ll just have to add this to the list of the countless things you fucked up.

You get up and walk to the kitchen in a stupor to pour yourself a glass of water. You make your way to the couch, taking a big gulp from your glass, trying to freshen your mouth and clear your brain when you stop in your tracks in wonder.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim.

Your cat is sleeping, curled on the sofa against Chris. He has taken off his tee and his pants and tried to roll himself in your quilt, but it’s too small and it lies down at his feet, revealing his black underwear. His beautifully chiseled body feels very tempting. His sleeping face looks so lovely, peaceful and relaxed and you suddenly want to be the cushion he is grasping. You gape, the glass slipping from your hand. You try to catch it but it falls on the floor with a loud clatter.

Chris opens his eyes, but only smiles sleepily at you. You smile back at him, a crooked smile not even hiding your rising desire for him. Your head still aches but you’re already trying to figure out how to make him stay.

“Hey” you say.

“Hey beautiful” he answers, getting up, rubbing his eyes.

“Breakfast?” you ask.

“Sure” he says. “Did you sleep well?”

“I must have” you reply while you make coffee and toasts. “My head still aches but it’s okay, I guess I’ll survive.”

He joins you in the kitchen, still in his underwear as if he owned the place. Why can’t he put something on? You can’t help but stare at his chest. He’s so fucking large! All you want is to nestle close to him because he looks so cuddly. He helps himself to a cup of coffee and you thank the gods that it’s sunday and none of you have to go to work.

“You make a pretty good coffee” he states, gracing you with another one of his beautiful smiles.

You nod, handing him the toasts, but he shakes his head, walking to the window to bathe in the sunlight, stretching. The muscles of his back all move in harmony. It’s the most amazing sight you’ve ever been given to see. Your eyes trail down along his body in appreciation, the curve of his lower back, his perfect booty, his muscular thighs. His skin looks smooth and you feel the urge to touch him. You stop your hand right in time as he turns back to look at you.

“You know I always come to the café because of you” he says, as if that was the most natural thing in the world.

You hide your wonder with a cough.

“Me? You must be kidding. I thought it was because of the latte macchiato.”

“Yes, that, but have you not noticed I always wait for you to be available?”

“Maybe because I make it best” you say with a sly smile.

“Aha” he laughs, eyeing you from head to toe. “Right.”

“I should hit the bathroom now” you reply, trying to hide your unrest.

You leave the kitchen, just turning as he stretches again. He notices your stare and he grins at you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be gone when you’re finished. I could use a shower too.”

Is that an invitation? You don’t even know what to think anymore, but you’re very careful to leave the bathroom door half open, just in case.

You brush your teeth and refresh your face, still in your clothes, when you feel Chris slip behind you.

“Could you lend me one of those?” he asks, pointing at your toothbrush.

“Sure” you say, a bit taken aback by his nerve.

Of course, you wanted him to join you but you never dared think he would actually do it. You bend to open the drawer under the drawer, your butt pressing against his thighs in the tight space.

“Do you mind?” you ask, rummaging in your stuff until you find a clean toothbrush.

You can hear him laugh and when you turn to hand him the brush, he pushes you against the sink, his hands cupping your face before planting a sweet kiss on your lips. You look at him, eyes widening, at a loss for words. His eyes are smiling at you, even if his face is straight. You raise yourself on the tip of your toes, reaching for his face to kiss him back, your hands wrapping around his neck, feeling the hair curling there, as soft as baby hair. His arms seize your waist, stroking your back as his tongue enters your mouth. You feel very small against his comfortable body and you return the kiss wildly, flicking your tongue on his with eagerness. 

His hands finally settle on your butt and he sits you on the sink, resuming the kissing, his saliva mingling with yours. You press his face closer to yours, sliding your legs around him, very much aware of his crotch pushing at you. The kiss goes on for a long time and it feels like the best thing in the world.

He releases your mouth very slowly, brushing your nose with his, a gentle smile curving his lips. You nuzzle him, planting wet kisses on his neck, pressing your underbelly closer to his crotch, feeling him harden against you. His hands trail down on your naked thighs, pulling your dress up to your waist. His fingers find the seam of your panties and he slides them down your legs. You look at him in anticipation as he kneels in front of you, splaying your legs even wider.

“Oh gods!” you sigh as he goes down on you, arching your back and bucking your hips when his tongue comes in contact with your bud.

You close your eyes, your fingers clutching the edges of the sink as an irresistible pleasure rises in you. His tongue flickers and dances, licking your juices. His mouth sucks at your bud, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes slow and soft.

“That’s it” you moan. “Yes, do it. Make me come.”

He continues to lap at you, his hands grasping your thighs, pushing you backwards against the mirror over the sink. You moan and you whine, writhing as your climax comes, your hands finding the top of his head, your fingers burying in his hair, body shivering violently.

He looks up at you with your eyes closed, your mouth exhaling a ragged breath and gets up to kiss you again. You taste your juices on his lips and his hands pull you back close to him, burying under your dress, stroking your waist, lifting the fabric all the way up your head until you sit completely naked on the sink.

You can feel his throbbing member pushing at you through his underwear and you press his butt further into you.

“You taste delicious” he murmurs in your ear.

“I want more” you purr back at him in between fast intakes of breath.

He only bends on you, kissing your neck, licking your skin, sucking at it until his lips leave red marks all over you. His mouth finally finds one of your breasts and you moan in delight as his lips trace little circles around it, settling on your nipple, taking it between his teeth. It hurts a little as he bites it, but it feels good as well. Your hand plunges inside his briefs, caressing his butt, and you rub your hot center against him without any shame. Despite your previous orgasm, you have deep need to feel him inside of you.

“Chris, come on” you beg, your eyes searching for his. “Do me.”

“Say it again.”

“What?” you ask.

“My name. Say it again.”

He makes a puppy face and you can’t help but laugh, hiding your face in his chest, the warmth of him submerging you. You can hear his heart pounding in his chest but still he asks you:

“Come on. Say it again. I like when you say my name.”

Your laughter subside and you oblige, purring “Chris” in his ear.

“You know, you could ask me anything, I’d do it” you continue, utterly serious this time.

His eyes catch yours.

“Really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Good thing for you I’m a nice guy.”

“Say that again and I might begin to think you’re not so nice after all” you reply, planting the softest of kisses on his begging lips. “Now, will you do me or what?”

“I don’t know” he says, teasing. “It depends. How much do you want me to?”

You snake your hand between his thighs, squeezing his cock over the fabric.

“Is that enough for you?” you ask. “Chris, I swear, I’ll die if you don’t fuck me now.”

“Dirty words, now” he says with a half-smile. “I wonder how dirty you can be.”

“You want me to show you?”

He nods, getting you down from the sink. You look disappointed, it seemed the perfect place to do it, but he explains:

“That wasn’t very comfortable, was it?”

You shrug. You really didn’t care as long as he was fucking you.

“Besides, I really need that shower and so do you” he continues, throwing his briefs away and getting in the shower.

He turns the tap on while you stay there, watching him as the water glides on his perfect body. A warm mist fills the bathroom and you bite your lips, staring at his erect member with envy.

“Don’t stay there! Come with me” he entreats and you step inside, letting the water run on your body.

You wanted him inside of you, but now that you see him fully naked, another idea springs in your mind. You get closer to him, hand sliding on his chest, down on his abs, feeling his breath sharpen as you finally settle on his hard cock. He bends to kiss you, his hand tangling in your wet locks, pushing at your nape, and you close your fingers on him, squeezing lightly, feeling him moan in your mouth. You stroke him all the way, his veins pulsing in your hand. His heartbeat against your chest increases and you know he wants something else.

You kneel at his feet, water trickling on your face and your tongue darts to touch his tip. You then lick his entire length. He fastens his hands on your hand, pushing you slightly and you open your mouth to take him inside. He’s too big and you can’t take him whole but you do your best to suck him as far as you can go. He clutches at your hair, groaning. Your eyes glance up at his face. His eyes are semi closed, his mouth half open, and you continue sucking and licking him until you feel him bucking his hips and you almost gag as his cock pushes inside your mouth.

“I’m sorry” he says, opening his eyes. “I guess you’re too good and I want you too much. I hope you don’t think I’m too fast.”

He helps you back on your feet, caressing you everywhere as he does so. Too fast? Most guys you’ve been with would have already jerked off by now. You feel blessed that he bides his time, thinking about your pleasure as well as his.

“Let me make it up to you” he says, seizing your waist and spinning you on your feet.

His hands cup your breasts as he bends you slightly over, his cock teasing your entrance. He rubs his hot length in your juices. Slowly, he slides into you, stopping midway to let you get used to his size, but you push your hips backwards to take him all in with a long moan, resting your hands on the wet wall. You cry out, arching your back, feeling the whole length of him thrusting in you. 

He’s perfect, he fits you completely, you think as he stays there a moment, catching his breath before pulling out and thrusting back again. He groans again and his hands settle on your hips as he starts moving back and forth. You gasp, you moan, you whimper, each thrust feels better than the last. One of his hand stays on your hip to maintain the position, but the other trails up to your breasts to caress them, catching your nipple in between thumb and index. You can’t hold back anymore but he thrusts and thrusts again, not showing any sign of slackening. The only indication you have of how close he is to his release is that his thrusts become faster. His breath on your neck quickens as well and he holds you as the tide hits you, body shuddering for the second time. Your walls tighten on him in a series of tremors.

“Fuck!” he exclaims. “I’m gonna come.”

“Then come” you say, turning your head to look at him. “Come for me.”

He releases you, member throbbing and you know what he wants. You kneel again and take him in your mouth, sucking at him until you feel him quake and he pulls away from you, jerking off on your face. The water washes off the sticky liquid as he pulls you back up to kiss your mouth again.

“Coffee is not the only thing you’re good at” he whispers, trying to catch his breath.

“Well, you’re not bad yourself, if I may” you put in, delighted both by the amazing sex and the compliment.

You snuggle close to him while he takes the shower gel and washes the both of you everywhere. His hands still make you shiver pleasantly, even for such an innocent purpose.

“Chris?” you ask as you both dress up. “Will I see you again?”.

“Why? Did you think I was leaving?”

He looks utterly surprised that you could even ask such a thing.

“Well, that’s what guys usually do after - you know” you reply, a little embarrassed.

“Even the nice guys?” he asks, taking you in his arms.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met one until now.”

“Don’t worry” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That’s true. He is as nice as you thought. And apparently, all yours.

 


End file.
